His Final Rolo
by Ashtrees
Summary: Consider the Rolo Conundrum. Sherlock only has one left and must chose who to give it to. What will be his solution to this sticky problem?


**His Last Rolo**

Sherlock was bored. And while he was bored his mind would latch itself onto problems far more trivial than how to solve a double, locked-room murder for instance, or how to dismantle a worldwide criminal network, while maintaining the illusion that he was dead.

No, he hadn't had a decent case in two weeks and his mind was desperate, and in its desperation it had taken hold of the Rolo Conundrum. The question was: to whom should he give his last Rolo?

It was Molly Hooper's fault that he was obsessing over the Rolo Conundrum.

Two days ago Mrs Hudson had thrown Sherlock out of the flat so that she could, in her words, "Give it a decent deep clean", and warned him not to return until the afternoon. With no case on hand and with no experiments to occupy his mind, Sherlock had slouched off to Bart's, hoping that Molly would have some interesting bodies in. She had not. They were all dead of natural and commonplace causes.

"Cheer up," she had said on seeing the dejected look on his face. "Here, you can have the rest of my Rolos if you like."

Sherlock had no idea why Molly thought that consuming a half-finished packet of toffees would help things, but he took them anyway and placed them in his pocket.

"Don't forget to give the last one to someone special," she said, with a smile.

Sherlock blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You're supposed to give your last Rolo to someone you like. Normally, someone would give it to their boyfriend or girlfriend, but that won't work in your case, will it?"

Sherlock was finding Molly much more confusing to talk to since he had returned. Her sharpness was always surprising in contrast to her old stuttering self. He felt that she was always trying to make a point which he never could quite pick up on. He pulled out the Rolos again and held them out to her.

Molly stared at him. "I didn't say that I wanted them back."

"But, you have a boyfriend. Won't he be upset if you don't give him the last Rolo? I suppose that I could return the last one to you and –"he began to unwrap the end of the packet.

Molly placed a hand on his arm. "You're overthinking. Please stop." She moved away and went into her office. "I'm very busy with normal, mundane stuff, Sherlock! Please, go find yourself a case!"

Sherlock had huffed loudly at that.

Two days later and he had only one Rolo left, the Final Rolo.

He lay on the sofa, twirling the foil wrapping in between his fingers with the Final Rolo sitting in the end of the packaging. He was deep in thought, considering the Rolo Conundrum.

What was the significance of the Final Rolo? Why was it more special than all the other Rolos? Was it a question of self-discipline? Having eaten the rest of the packet, did the manufactures expect consumers to experience a greater amount of temptation when faced with the Final Rolo, and therefore increasing the value of offering a single Rolo to a loved one?

He could give it to John, but the Conundrum seemed to be about love, most things were; and he was defiantly not in love with John Watson. He had declared his platonic love several times during his Best Man speech, but only because John had said the L word first when asking Sherlock to be his best man.

But, as Molly had said, the Rolo Conundrum had different rules for him because he could never be in love with anyone anyway. Perhaps John should be a contender after all?

There was Mary. He cared about her because John loved her more than anyone else in the world. If he couldn't give the Final Rolo to the love of his life (due to not having one), perhaps giving it to the love of his best friend's life was the next best thing?

But, oh, stupid! Mary was pregnant and anything too sweet made her vomit. Besides which, the added responsibility of being given a Final Rolo may be too much along with the responsibility of being pregnant.

Sherlock sighed, turning the Rolo over in his fingers. It had melted a little and there was a bit of fluff sticking to it, but people weren't as observant as he was and he doubted that his chosen one would notice.

He couldn't give it to Molly because she had given it to him.

There was Lestrade….nope! Too ordinary, not deserving enough.

Mrs Hudson? Sherlock glanced around the flat. It was looking and smelling much nicer since she had deep cleaned it. She did an awful lot for him – cooking, cleaning and shopping, as well as putting up with his temper and unsociable habits. Yes, Mrs Hudson should receive the Final Rolo. Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief. The Rolo Conundrum had been solved.

Except that it hadn't! If Sherlock gave Mrs Hudson the Final Rolo then she would be in possession of her only and Final Rolo, meaning that she would have to pass it on to someone else, depriving her of the sweet Sherlock had intended for her to have.

Sherlock groaned. He had only made the Rolo Conundrum worse. If he had thought about it, he would have given Mrs Hudson his final two Rolos – one for her to eat and one for her to give away.

_Don't be so stupid, Sherlock,_ his Mind Mycroft grouched. _There is another way to solve the Rolo problem._

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I'm not giving it to you."

_Of course, you're not going to give it to me! I'll only want more and get fat. Fatter, even._

Sherlock grinned. His Mind Mycroft was so much more fun than the real one.

_But, there is a simple solution to this._

Sherlock's face suddenly lit up. "Oh, I see. Of course!" and he ate the Final Rolo, thus solving the Rolo Conundrum for good. After all, he was his own special someone. Finally, his brain could move onto other things.


End file.
